


Prepare for Trouble, and Make it Double

by MsThunderFrost



Series: The Sexual Misadventures of the Serpent of Eden and the 6,000 Year Old Virgin [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Anatomy of a Snake, Angel/Demon Sex, Daydreaming, Demisexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Demisexuality, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, Established Relationship, First Time, Fisting, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kissing, M/M, Pansexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Post-Canon, Rimming, Snakes, Virginity, almost, pansexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 04:41:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19760806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsThunderFrost/pseuds/MsThunderFrost
Summary: Aziraphale wants the D...or, rather,Ds. Crowley wants to make sure he's nice andloosefirst.Sequel to“The Sexual Misadventures of the Serpent of Eden and the 6,000 Year Old Virgin”.You don’t have to read that one first, but I can almost guarantee this will make more sense if you do.





	Prepare for Trouble, and Make it Double

“Crowley!” Aziraphale called, stirring the seafood chowder he’d been slaving over for the last hour and a half, “Dinner is almost ready! Would you be a dear and set the table for me— _ah_!” The angel jumped, almost knocking the pot off of the cooktop, as slim arms wound around his waist and a pointed chin settled on his shoulder.

Crowley pressed a soft kiss against the angel’s neck, murmuring, “Oh? And what’s on the menu this evening...?” Yellow eyes flickered to the pot; one look at the contents caused the demon’s nose to wrinkle and his lips to twist into something akin to a grimace. “It looks…oh, what is the word I’m looking for?”

Aziraphale swatted at him playfully, “You’re terrible, sneaking up on me like that.” He said. “I assure you that it tastes much better than it looks. Here,” he twisted around, sliding a spoonful of chowder into the demon’s unprepared mouth. “Well? What do you think?”

“Mmm…It’s delicious,” He slid the spoon out of his mouth with a wet _pop_. “But I can think of something _else_ that I’d rather be eating…” His hand trailed downward, fingers working in slow, steady circles over the slight bulge in Aziraphale’s trousers.

“Something…else?” Aziraphale breathed, a bit of disappointment coloring his tone. “I suppose that I can make something else, but I do wish that you’d told me before I spent all of this time -,”

Crowley sighed, “Oh, your absolute obliviousness is adorable, angel.” At Aziraphale’s rather hopeless expression, he elaborated, “I’m not talking about food.”

Aziraphale, now more confused than ever, jutted out his bottom lip in an expression rather near to a pout and asked, “Then what do you _want_ to eat then, pray tell?”

“You.” Crowley said, before turning the angel around so that they were pressed chest to chest, the thin, black towel rack on the oven door digging almost painfully into the small of his back.

“Oh? _Oh_.” That was definitely _not_ Crowley’s belt buckle digging into his hip. “But what a-about the food -,”

The demon rolled his eyes—leave it to his angel to be an absolute freaking buzzkill. With a snap of his fingers, the chowder had been served into two sizeable bowls, each with an elegant, hand-painted sunflower on the side, with the remainder safely sealed away in a Tupperware container and placed on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator in the back right corner. Even though they likely wouldn’t be touching it for some time, it went without saying that it would cool to the perfect temperature for consumption and remain there until Crowley had had his fill of his angel. Whenever that would be.

Crowley swooped down, claiming his angel’s lips in a bruising kiss. Aziraphale snapped his fingers and both of their clothes disappeared…Crowley drew back, eyeing the angel appreciatively—he was well aware of how Aziraphale felt about ‘frivolous’ miracles, after all—but then he saw, out of the corner of his eye, their clothing, neatly folded, on the kitchen table, with Aziraphale’s beloved coat resting on the back of one of the dining room chairs. He rolled his eyes, but could not deny the warm feeling which blossomed in his chest at the sight. Some things would never change, and that was okay.

Taking hold of the angel’s hips, he hoisted him up onto the counter. Aziraphale let out an adorable little squeak—Crowley’s little displays of strength always caught him off-guard—his legs circling around Crowley’s slim waist and his hands digging into the demon’s bony shoulders. The marble countertop was startlingly cold against his skin; he flinched, but thankfully did not have long to dwell on it because Crowley’s hands on him were like _fire_. Crowley kissed him again, dragging the angel’s bottom lip between his teeth and suckling softly. The demon pressed closer, arms winding around Aziraphale’s middle and his short, blunt fingernails leaving faint red crescents on the angel’s skin…he rolled his hips in a slow, steady circle, his cocks beginning to stir in interest.

When Crowley broke the kiss, Aziraphale was panting, his cheeks flushed a delicate pink and his blue eyes impossibly wide. He was smiling, which did funny things to Crowley’s body, like make his heart beat so fast he feared it might pop right out of his chest, if such a thing were even anatomically possible, and all of his blood to rush south. He felt dizzy, but in a pleasant way, like he was weightless, floating. Grinding his hips against Aziraphale’s, he began peppering the angel’s soft, hyper-sensitive skin with open mouthed kisses. He suckled softly, dragging his teeth over miles of pale, unblemished flesh, leaving pretty purplish-pink marks in his wake. Aziraphale’s blue eyes fluttered, his head lolling to the side to allow him better access, soft, breathy moans bubbling up from his chest and falling from slightly parted lips.

“You, um…” Aziraphale’s fingers tangled in Crowley’s hair, his hips rocking against the demon’s with such ferocity Crowley worried, if only for a brief moment, that things would be over before they’d had a chance to properly begin. “You wanted to… _eat me_?” He squeaked.

Crowley smirked. The angel’s innocence was absolutely adorable. “Mmm, yes. The real question is, which end should I sample first…” drawing back, he trailed a finger down the angel’s smooth, hairless chest, over the slight paunch of his belly and stopping just millimeters above his soft nest of white-blond pubic hair.

The angel’s brows knitted together in confusion, “…Which end?”

“Should I take you in my mouth, curl my tongue around your thick cock and suck and suck until your eyes cross and you’re seeing stars?” Crowley asks, “Or should I turn you around, bend you over the counter, and work you open nice and slow with my tongue, make you loose and ready to take my cocks?”

“You would…there? Really?” Aziraphale seemed to be considering it for a moment, surprised that Crowley would even suggest something that seemed so… _dirty_.

Crowley pressed their foreheads together, murmuring softly, “Trust me. It feels _delightful_.”

Aziraphale swallowed hard, “C-Can we…?”

“Your wish is my command, angel.”

Easing Aziraphale down off the counter, he spun him around and eased him forward so that his chest was flat against the counter. He dropped to his knees, taking hold of the firm globes of his angel’s ass and squeezing gently. The angel keened, his hips canting forward to press his length into the edge of the countertop. Swooping in, he playfully bit into Aziraphale’s left cheek, leaving a deep, purplish-blue imprint of his teeth on the delicate skin. Then, one hand on each cheek, he cleared the way to Aziraphale’s tight, virgin pucker and blew on it softly. Aziraphale shivered, knees buckling as Crowley’s sinful mouth ventured ever closer until finally, _finally_ that warm, blissfully _long_ muscle pressed against his entrance and slithered inside.

The sensation…it was like nothing Aziraphale had ever experienced before, had never _dreamed_ of before. His tongue…oh _heavens_ , his tongue! He gripped the counter as tight as he dared, his knuckles turning pink, then white from the exertion. It felt like his brain was firing on all cylinders, a pleasant warmth budding in his belly contradicting the feeling of hyper-awareness as Crowley lit nerve endings on _fire_ that he hadn’t even known existed up until a few seconds ago. Aziraphale found himself messily groping for the demon’s mop of unruly auburn curls, at first thinking that it would be nice to anchor himself onto something that was not cold and unfeeling marble, and then realizing, when his fingers curled tight into the messy locks and tugged just hard enough to be uncomfortable, he was actually trying to get Crowley _closer_ , to press _harder_ …and Crowley positively blossomed under the rough treatment, his moans reverberating through Aziraphale’s overly sensitized body and causing the angel to rock forward, wantonly rutting against the edge of the counter. 

Crowley’s tongue was thrusting deep inside, the tip of his forked tongue occasionally grazing the angel’s prostate and causing the poor creature to see stars. Aziraphale felt like he was melting—he didn’t think it was possible for someone to have such fantastic muscle control over their _tongue,_ but Crowley never failed to amaze and astound. His fingers dig deep into his flesh, pressing hard enough upon the soft, pale flesh to leave deep, purplish-black bruises in his wake...Aziraphale didn’t, _couldn’t,_ care. His pleasure is heightened by the fact that this is Crowley— _Crowley_ who is caressing his most intimate places, _Crowley_ whose impressive girth is straining against his calf, _Crowley_ who is about to make him cum just from thrusting that gloriously nimble tongue inside of him and oh... _oh!_

He wasn’t sure when he started moaning, words of praise and love spilling from his lips as Crowley’s tongue caressed that sensitive little nub inside of him and “Yes... _Yes...YES!”_

Crowley withdrew his tongue with a wet _slurp_ , before licking his lips and confessing softly, “Didn’t think that that’d be enough to get you off. Consider me pleasantly surprised.” He hummed, snapping his fingers and miracling a bottle of lube into existence. “You ready for the fun part?”

Aziraphale looked mildly scandalized. “You mean that wasn’t…?”

“I promised you—both of these,” he gripped his dicks, their combined girth just a bit larger than a grown man’s fist, “squeezed in your tight little hole. This...This was just a little taste, an appetizer to prepare you for what’s to come.” Aziraphale still looked skeptical, “Don’t worry—I have no intention of skimping on the prep. Getting you nice and loose and wet for me is my favorite part.” He said, golden eyes glittering. 

Sneaking a hand around, Crowley scooped up a finger full of Aziraphale’s spend and brought it to his lips, eyes rolling back in his head at the utterly blissful taste. Aziraphale’s dick gave a weak twinge of interest. “C-Crowley, that’s -,” 

“Delicious?” The demon asked, smirking. “I know.”

“I was actually going to say -,”

Crowley cut him off with a soft, “How about we get you back to moaning my name, hmm?” He drizzled the sweetly scented lube over his fingers, spreading Aziraphale’s cheeks with his free hand...he soothed one cool, wet finger around Aziraphale’s winking hole, before plunging his first finger knuckle-deep inside.

His fingers weren’t quite as long as his tongue, but _God_ , they were thicker. He wasn’t sure how, short of a miracle, Crowley planned on fitting all five of those inside him. Crowley, however, had no such reservations. Slowly, Crowley pistoned his finger in and out of Aziraphale’s tight heat, the excess of lube making a distinctive squelching sound. Aziraphale rocked back against his finger, his half-hard cock gliding against the smooth marble, his movements eased by the rapidly cooling pool of spend beneath his cock. He was distracted enough that he didn’t feel Crowley slide another finger inside, scissoring them wide, a not unpleasant burn coursing through him. It felt strange. It felt intrusive. But most of all, it felt _good_. He wanted to feel Crowley _deeper,_ suddenly desperate for something longer and thicker and infinitely more substantial than a couple of fingers. He wanted to feel Crowley inside of him, feel his thick girth splitting him open...what he received was a soft kiss to the small of his back as fingers curled inside of him and brushed against that little nub that had him seeing stars. 

Drizzling more lube onto his hand, he managed to work a third finger inside. He couldn’t help but think that Crowley was treating him like glass, as if he would shatter into thousands of tiny little pieces should he press too hard. Considering that he was still relaxed from the rimjob, the excess of lube meant that Crowley’s fingers were meeting little to no resistance. And any discomfort that Aziraphale may have felt was mitigated by the feel of Crowley’s tongue tracing thick stripes across the small of his back. Stretching his fingers wide, he murmured how beautiful he looked, stretched out for him, mouth agape, lips shining and eyes blissfully unfocused as he fucked him. And then he twisted his hand so that his thumb was pointing up, drew his fingers back so that they were resting at the first knuckle and gave a playful little wiggle, before sliding his pinky inside and pushing until the top of his palm was flush with Aziraphale’s skin. 

“How are you feeling, angel? Still doing okay?” Aziraphale seemed to be having trouble forming coherent sentences, too far gone on the sound of Crowley’s voice and the feel of his fingers pumping in and out of him, slow and sweet, like the rhythm of a church bell. 

Crowley might actually kill him if he knew he was thinking about bloody _church bells_ right now...but what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right?

“G-Good.” He managed, words trailing off into a moan as Crowley’s fingers swiped at his prostate. “So— _ungh—_ so good.” A deep flush came over his cheeks as his cock leaked a fat glob of pre, “Crowley, _please_...stop t-teasing me. I want to feel _you._ A- _AH!”_

“And you will, angel.” Crowley said, his voice soothing as he used his free hand to stabilize the poor, over-sensitized angel. “But first...I want to see if I can make you cum for me from just my fingers…”

“C-Crowley, I...I _can’t…”_ the angel sounded positively desperate. He wanted—no, _needed—_ more. 

“Oh, but I think you can.” Crowley cooed, his comforting smile dissolving into something of a smirk. “And, thanks to the beauties of angelic stamina, you’ll be able to get off a third time on my cock. You’ll be well and truly fucked out, angel.”

Before he could protest, Crowley trickled even more lube over his hand and ever-so-carefully twisted his hand around until his thumb was tracing along the rim of his channel. He murmured under his breath for Aziraphale to breathe, and as the angel drew in one massive, shaky breath, his thumb breached the hole and his fingers curled into a tight fist and holy _hell_ , he felt so bloody _full._ So impossibly full. An amazing warmth blossomed in his lower belly and any and all forms of coherent thought flew out of his mind as Crowley began to move. He could feel his knuckles scraping against his inner walls, bumping against his prostate, stretching him so impossibly wide and yet, somehow, he knew that Crowley’s cocks would stretch him wider… 

“C-C-Cumming!” He screamed, his throat raw as his cock began to twitch. He painted his stomach in thick stripes of white, creating an even _bigger_ mess on the countertop. When he’d finished, he almost collapsed, Crowley’s body the only thing holding him up. 

“I told you you could do it.” Crowley said, pride seeping into his tone. Golden eyes flickered down to where their bodies were still joined, “I think you’re ready. Just bear with me a moment longer. This might be a bit...uncomfortable.”

Crowley took great care in removing his hand, and was pleased to find that, while his hole was gaping a bit and a little red and raw around the edges, there was no damage done. Snapping his fingers, the countertop was clear, and he spun Aziraphale around so that they were chest to chest before hoisting the angel up onto the counter…Aziraphale eyed his cocks hungrily, watching as Crowley took great care to slick them with lube before lining up with his still sensitive entrance. Swooping down, he captured the angel’s lips in a sweet kiss, before guiding his first cock inside. Aziraphale swooned, moaning into his demon’s mouth and biting down on his sinfully full bottom lip as he bottomed out inside of him for the first time. It felt...oh God, there were no words. Crowley was thrusting slowly, much too slowly for Aziraphale’s liking, the cock that was not currently sheathed in his tight heat slapping rhythmically against the tender flesh of his ass…

“Aziraphale…’Zira...Earth to Aziraphale, are you even listening to me?” When Aziraphale managed to focus on Crowley’s face, the demon’s features were no longer contorted with pleasure. Instead, they looked... _concerned_? And he was...snapping his fingers in front of the angel’s face?

“W-What?” And suddenly, they were both fully clothed, Crowley holding the empty spoon he’d used to sample the chowder earlier. Had this all just been one long, extended daydream…?

Crowley raised an eyebrow, “I asked how long until dinner and you spaced out. Though, from the looks of it, you were definitely enjoying yourself.” He smirked, his eyes very pointedly focused on the bulge in Aziraphale’s pants. 

“I um...um…” Aziraphale flushed bright red, before racing off toward the bedroom. “Dinner will be ready in twenty!” He shouted, barely able to keep it together enough not to stammer, before slamming the door closed and setting about resolving his not so little problem.


End file.
